Don't Quit Your Daydream

The other night, as Matthew and I were pouring our tired bodies into bed, both children asleep, Obachan all tucked in (more on that later), the animals milked and fed, cheese orders packaged up and ready to go out the next morning, and just a few dishes still in the sink from dinner (sleep > clean kitchen), he said to me.

“You know Diamond Dallas Page was 40 years old when he started wrestling?”

I didn’t know that. And, in case you didn’t either, DDP was a professional wrestler (think The Rock (in his fanny pack days), John Cena (also before he became an actor), and Hulk Hogan).

I did however know where Matthew was going with this little factoid.

There’s no expiration date on your dream.


I think we both needed a little reminder. We’re not old by any means. I just turned 35 and Matthew just turned 37. We haven’t even hit our prime yet! (And, if I keep doing yoga the way Matthew makes me I won’t hit my prime for a long time.)


Dang, we feel old.

Our kids don’t sleep through the night. Everyone goes to bed in their own spaces, but, by 1 a.m. everyone is in our bed. Normally by morning Matthew is in some dark corner meditating (he also doesn’t sleep through the night and uses meditation for a large portion of his nighttime regeneration) and I’m curled up at the foot of the bed like the family dog. The children are blissfully asleep, usually cuddling each other and looking so dang cute you feel like your heart will burst.

We’re three years into running this business. The stress and anxiety of figuring out who will buy our cheese on a weekly basis is the kind of stuff that keeps you up at night. You see, the thing about a goat dairy is, the goats make milk Which means even if you have one great week of selling cheese it’s not enough. The product is constantly replenishing itself. It also has an expiration date. So if you don’t sell it fast enough you’re actually better off to just set your money on fire.

Did I mention the kids? Oh man. I love my kids. Like. More than I’ll ever love anything in this entire world.

But when I look at pictures of myself before I had kids and when I look at pictures of myself now…

The aging is rapid.

But we’re still not old.

A perfect reminder of that is our time with Obachan.

Obachan is my Japanese grandmother. She’s come to live with us for awhile. She suffers from dementia and has pretty low mobility. She is, by no means, independent. We take her to the bathroom, we bathe her, we make sure she takes her pills, we make her exercise (Sit and Be Fit!), we change her, and we always walk very closely to her, even though she has a walker and wheelchair.

Obachan is 89. She’s the oldest person I know.

When I look at Obachan though, I don’t see an old person.

I still see hope.

When she came to live with us she didn’t really connect at all. She knows me, her Granddaughter, but was having a hard time matching the kids with me. I think she thinks Matthew is just a live-in caregiver and probably also wonders why I’m always grabbing his butt.

Over time though, there are little glimpses of my Obachan emerging. Last night I said, “Okay! Time for your exercises!” and she said, “No I don’t think so!” and started laughing. We also played GoFish and War with the kids and she got pretty rowdy. She may or may not know that the tiny humans running around are mine, but she does scoot over in her chair now to make room for them. Banzai especially loves to climb up there with her and watch the old black and white samurai movies in Japanese. She’s older than us, yes. But, if she still had dreams, I feel pretty confident saying this, we could make them happen.


Because dreams only expire when you do.

Our dream is still to have a sustainable goat dairy that makes a living wage for it’s farmers. We’re close. Dang we are close. Three years in and we’ve never felt closer.

But is that our last dream?

Nope. Not even close.

Matthew was in a rock band when I met him (so hot). Will he be in a rock band again? I don’t know. But does he have music floating around in his body that’s just begging for attention so it can become a reality? Absolutely. And that’s a dream I fully support.

I finally, after 34 years of life, got a horse that was mine. Dream achieved. New dream, though. Ride my horse I started yesterday.

In my lifetime I’d like to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. I’d like to travel to Thailand with Matthew (he lived there for a year and still speaks the language). I’d like to see a goat dairy in Europe. These are dreams I have just sitting on the tip of my tongue.

I’d like to sleep through the night. Just one night for starters, but then eventually a solid week would be pure bliss.

I believe all these things will happen for me.

Because dreams have a magical way of manifesting themselves when we say them out loud. When we talk about them. When we stop whispering about them in dark corners and we start talking about them as if they mean something.

Am I worried I won’t live to see them? A little. My dad died much to young because of cancer.

But I can’t control that. And I’ve already lost more than enough sleep worrying about dying early. I’m quitting that now.

Instead of putting infinite amount of energy into worrying about whether or not I will live long enough to achieve my goals I will put that same energy into living my best life every single day, and with that I will slowly achieve ALL.THE.DREAMS.

I will remember to thank my body for being strong and capable, I will thank my mind for being sharp, and I will thank my family for being there every step of the way (even when one of them has an elbow in my eye socket and the other one is attached to my boob at 2:30 in the morning).

My cup runneth over.


Rachael Taylor-Tuller